Baba Yaga
by Confusedrambler
Summary: AU set after FMA:B Episode 15: Envoy from the East. Features many characters- major and minor. Bit of a dark!fic. Cannon ships with one or two others thrown in, but not a romance fic. No yaoi/yuri, smut, or inappropriate language. Inspired by 'Taken.' Disclaimer: I don't own FMA! Rated 'T' for now, will eventually be bumped up to 'M.'
1. Chapter 1

_"People keep on telling me_

_They know what's best_

_And what to be _

_frightened of._

_And all the rest are wrong._

_They know nothing about us."_

_Jay Brannan- Say It's Possible_

* * *

Edward wasn't quite sure when he'd gone to sleep, but he knew he had. He must have. His consciousness was adrift, his thoughts unfocused and unbearably slow. This had never happened before. Even in his dreams, his thoughts had always been like quicksilver, rushing through his mind in a torrent of information, ever ready to change course. This feeling of numbness that surrounded him was new, and for some reason, slightly disturbing. But he couldn't imagine how this new sensation could be bad. In fact, the more he thought about it- as slow as that process was- the more he decided he liked it. This paralysis of mind gave him something he hadn't had in a long time: peace. He was free to just _be, _and at the moment, that was more than enough.

He let himself float in the depths of his own mind, passively enjoying the lazy circulation of disjointed thoughts until the metallic clack and groaning shudder of stressed wood penetrated through the fog. He knew that sound...a train? Why was he on a train? He didn't remember- bit by bit his awareness increased, the feeling of being wrapped in cotton and then packed in ice fading until a pounding headache and turbulent nausea made itself known.

He grit his teeth and hissed, clutching at his head with clumsy fingers. What happened? He remembered...cats. Lots of cats. And he was angry with...Al? No, not Al- but they'd had a fight. And he was on his way to see...to see Hughes. And then- a shadow? _Envy?_ Ah _crap,_ he _wasn't supposed to be here!_

The train jolted unpleasantly, jostling his aching head and forcing all his attention on not_- don't puke, don't puke, swallow it, swallow it! _Somehow he managed to regain control, forcing aside his roiling stomach to be dealt with _later. _Other things demanded his attention at the moment.

He decided to start listing what he knew. A reliable compilation of solid, indisputable facts, that was the way to start off. And if that didn't get him anywhere, he could always go for the 'run as fast as you can and take down anyone who gets in your way' approach. He'd gotten rather good at that one lately.

Fact 1: He was on a train.

Fact 2: Judging by the state of his head, stomach, and more recent memories, he was _not_ here by choice.

Fact 3: If he wasn't here by choice and his kidnappers or whatever they were had neglected to so much as tie him up, they must be hopelessly stupid, insanely over-confident, or extremely competent. He was hoping for the first two, but the way his luck went, it was probably the third. _Great._

Fact 4: He should probably work on an escape plan right about now. Or at least let Al know he was alive and _probably_ fine.

Fact 5: He should also probably open his eyes right about now.

He did.

Nothing very impressive happened. No one demanded those mysterious military secrets people were always going on about or asked him to create a philosopher's stone- no one had even tried to speak to him, much less attack him. Instead, he was lying on his back looking up at an old ceiling made of wood painted over with an awful cream sort of color that _tried_ to look professional but only succeeded in looking dingy. It was all very anticlimactic. He couldn't help but feel a bit disappointed. Fights and interrogations were a hassle, but they were a heck of a lot more professional than just _walking out_. He almost felt insulted, in fact. Of course, his head still felt like it was going to shatter, his insides weren't far behind, and in the circumstances, _maybe_ he should be glad they hadn't jumped on him all at once, but _still_.

It was the principle of the thing.

It took more effort than he thought should be strictly necessary, but he managed to turn his head to see the rest of the compartment. It was small, but private, containing a pile of bulging luggage, a sleeping woman, and himself. He wasn't entirely sure if the woman was on their side or just another victim, though she looked very _familiar._ She wasn't tied up either, just curled up in the corner with the faintest snuffle of deep breathing. She seemed to be resting naturally enough, and if it just so happened that she was on _their_ side- whoever _they_ were- it would be idiotic to wake her up himself. He would leave her for now. Better to take his chances and come back for her after contacting Al.

With titanic effort, he managed to push himself upright, limbs shaking, room spinning, and stomach roaring in displeasure. He swayed, grit his teeth and slid onto the vibrating floor, automail leg catching him and keeping him upright. Almost there. He could do it. He just had to stand and take a few steps into the hall. That's all. Just- one- step.

He wobbled, nearly falling backwards onto the woman. He shifted his balance just in time, flailing wildly and biting his tongue to keep from cussing out his unstable legs and inconsiderate train drivers. He steadied himself against the vibrating walls of the train, sweat just beginning to bead from the effort of moving forward. What had they _given_ him? He hadn't felt this weak since his last stay in the hospital. He ground his teeth and drug himself a step further. Now to wrestle the door open...and he was half-way there.

He didn't bother sliding the door shut behind him. He was already feeling winded and there was always the chance that the snap shut of the door would wake up the woman. Bracing himself against the door frame, he stuck his head out, oh so cautiously, looking left and right and left again.

Empty.

He slipped out of the room, pushing himself on faster, faster, faster, _move it_ you useless hunk of metal! He could feel the seconds draining away, sapping energy and lessening his chances of escape with every delay. There would be a telephone somewhere, an emergency only line of course- one that was only supposed to connect to the engine room, but he'd done this before and Fuery had shown him a trick or two, so really it shouldn't be a problem and when had it gotten so hard to _breathe_?

He's finally managed to find the car with the telephone line and his vision is starting to double up, but he's finally_ t__here_. He rips open the thin metal-and-wood shell, exposing tangled wires. He doesn't quite trust himself to hold the circle in his mind long enough to do all that needs doing, so he scratches the symbols into what's left of the casing.

Copper, carbon, and iron overlap, overlaid with fire, surrounded by earth, and enclosed in the circle. It takes minutes, seconds that he's afraid he doesn't have and there's a worrying squiggle, but he just _doesn't have the time_ to do it over again. He spreads his hand over the completed circle, screws up his eyes and _concentrates_. He force-feeds the transmutation with the raw heat of anger and passion until the metals are malleable, drawing them out, molding them into the shapes he knows they should be, connecting copper wires with steel fittings, fusing them together with the strength and patience of the earth. He forces more and more of himself into the transmutation until wires writhe around his hand, making their final connections and he's poured so much of himself into this that he _knows_ he won't be able to escape right away, but if he can just talk to Al it'll all _be okay_.

The last wire stops moving and he droops against the wall. A shaking hand closes the metal door, the newly carved numbers and dial blur together, but he's done this so many times that his hand moves on its own. His eyes are closed and he doesn't remember doing that, but he's still dialing the right number because it's one of only three numbers he knows and really _any of them_ would be right, so he doesn't worry for now. He's done dialing and somehow he's dragged the receiver to his ear and he waits and waits and waits.

There's a click and what breath he has catches in his throat until he hears-

"Hello?"

It's Winry. It's _Winry__._ He feels his stomach drop and he wants to hang up, but this could be his only chance. He feels like he's suffocating, though he's sucking in air with great heaving gulps.

"Who is-"

A muffled yelp and loud exclamation tear his attention from the phone and he swears. Time's almost up.

"Win, I don't- I don't have much time."

"Ed- breaking- where- coming home?"

He talks over her, as loud as he dares- he can already hear the pound of footsteps headed his way.

"Listen! You've gotta tell Al! 'M on a train. I'm not supposed to be here and I dunno where we're going. I think- think it's _Envy_. You have to remember, tell him it's Envy! Look, I've gotta hurry, they're coming!"

"Train? One! 's going on? Please! Don't u-"

There's a shout down the hall and he turns, swearing because

_They found me, they found me, theyfoundme_.

A man in uniform tackles him, throwing him flat against the wall and his air leaves with a woosh. He struggles as hard as he can, fighting tooth and nail against the taller man, adrenalin giving him a much-needed boost. Then there's another man, this one in a brown suit and they're both so _apologetic_ about it all, holding him down with just enough force to control him and adjusting holds whenever he hisses in pain and _if they hate hurting him so much why did they take him in the first place? _

A woman- the woman from the compartment- slipped past them and hung up the phone, apologizing every step of the way, tears threatening to slip past her eyelids. They drag him down the hallway, saying things like _there, there_ and _calm down_, and _everything's just fine. _He thrashes one last time and yells between panting breaths, ordering them to _let go_ and swearing and telling them _exactly_ who it is they're trying to haul off because _surely_ they just _don't know_ who he is if they're being so gentle. And if they're comforting him then they can't possibly be the ones who are really after him, right? But all they say is _of course you are_ and _be still_ and _you'll be better in no time_ and _she really loves you_ and _you're so lucky to have her, so just behave will you?_

Mothers pull their children away from the windows, hugging them tight, and other men look on with _pity_ and _contempt_. He's shocked into near silence at the sheer absurdity of it all and the conductor and that other man, just a regular businessman- a dime a dozen in central, speed down the hall, bundling him into that same compartment. They strap him in and hold down his shoulders- _just in case, don't worry my lad_, and the woman is waving something under his nose. Everything starts to melt together and his muscles turn to water, though he still wants to scream, fight, escape. The pressure on his shoulders is gone and he slumps to the side. All he can think is that the men have _disappeared. _

The woman is still there though and his eyes widen when she backhands him. She drags him upright by the collar and she's furious, but tears are snaking down her face.

_"You will ____never__ leave me again. ____Never.__"_

* * *

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Ring._

_Click._

"Hello?"

Heavy breathing.

"Who is this?"

Muffled swearing.

"Edward? Is that you? Where are you?"

More swearing.

"Win- I don't-"

"Ed, you're breaking up. Where are you? Are you coming home?"

"Tell Al- train- not supposed to- it's Envy- hurry- coming."

"A train? Which one? Who's Envy? What's going on? Please, I don't understand!"

Swearing.

_Thud._

_Hiss._

A scuffle.

Silence.

_Click._

_"Edward!"_

* * *

He wanted to _leave_. He wanted to go _so badly_, to just run screaming through the streets of Central- and he'd done it in the past, sure, but that was _different_. He wanted someone, anyone, _everyone_ to know exactly what happened. He wanted help. He wanted...he wanted...

He wanted _Ed_.

Instead he sat on the couch with a shaking Winry, made himself as still and small as possible, and glared at the clock. It had been an hour since Ed's call and he wanted more than ever before to kick down every door in Central until he found Mr Mustang or Ms Hawkeye or _anyone_.

He'd thought of pounding down the pavement with Winry in his arms, of running all the way to Mrs Gracia's house and begging her to help. But he didn't dare. They'd caused her enough trouble. It was their fault, after all. Mr Hughes was- and he was _so sorry_, but apologies couldn't bring the dead back to life.

No.

Mrs Gracia shouldn't have to bear this as well.

He didn't know Mr Mustang's phone number and he didn't even think Ms Hawkeye _had_ a phone. They were kind of expensive. But he didn't know where they lived either. Ed had always refused to let him know about things like that. He kept making up excuses and pretending it was 'classified information' that Al could get in trouble knowing. And even if Ed had told him, they probably had new numbers for everything after the move to Central. He should have thought and asked for their information while he was at the office, but _oh_ the news about Mr Hughes had shaken him to his core.

So for now he watched the too-slow tick of the clock and held Winry as close to him as possible, trying to find words of comfort. It was so hard to wait, but he _knew_ no one would be at the office at two in the morning.

At least, no one he could trust.

So he waited.

And waited.

And

waited.

And when the clock finally, finally, _finally_ hit 4:53, he scooped Winry up, sprang to his feet, and bolted out the door, clanging all the way.

_Usually_, he wasn't allowed in the military base without Ed or one of the Colonel's men. _Usually_, he had to wait whenever he was running an errand for Mr Fuery or Mr Havoc and sometimes Mr Falman or Mr Breda to come escort him. _Usually_ he followed the rules to the letter because he cared about being a good boy.

There was nothing 'usual' about this. Nothing at all.

So when the guards at the top of the stairs tried to stop him from coming in, he blew right by them. When they ordered him to stop, he ignored them. When they actually brought out their guns...he lost his patience. He'd have to remember to apologize later. They didn't _really_ deserve to be stuck on the ceiling, but...well, maybe next time they wouldn't try to keep him out. It wasn't like they couldn't _recognize_ him.

He tried to keep himself from sprinting down the halls, but control was tricky when he was so upset. He ended up jogging most of the way and when he actually got to Mr Mustang's office he set Winry down- almost dropped her, really- and accidentally ripped the door from its hinges. He could tell Ms Hawkeye was surprised, but she didn't get angry, much to his relief.

"Alphonse? What's happened?"

Now that he was here, he didn't quite know what to do with himself. He stuttered and twisted his hands nervously, inadvertently crushing the doorknob and ripping a large chunk of wood from the door itself. He squeaked in dismay and leaned the door against the wall, backing away from it and spilling apologies.

"It's alright, Alphonse. Calm down, please. Just tell me what the problem is."

Winry pushed past him and scrubbed the tears away from her face, a stubborn set to her mouth.

"Edward's in trouble."

"What kind of trouble?"

"I don't know. He called a few hours ago. He said that he's on a train and to hurry. I think he was going to say something else, but he got into some kind of fight. After that- he was just _gone!"_

Another tear traced it's way down Winry's cheek, but she bit her lip and dashed it away. Ms Hawkeye's expression hardened and she stepped forward, placing a hand on each of them.

"This is very important. Did he say anything else? Anything at all?"

Alphonse fidgeted as best he could without disrupting her hold. They needed to _go_, Ed needed help!

"No, he didn't say. He couldn't. The connection was bad and he sounded tired or- or _hurt._ He- he said they were _coming_ and then there was a fight and he was _gone! _I mean- he did say 'envy,' but that doesn't make any sense at all!"

Alphonse stiffened. Envy? Ed had mentioned Envy? Like the _homunculus_ Envy?

"Okay Ms Rockbell, I need you to try as hard as you can to remember this. When did Edward call?"

"I don't _know._ I- I guess around one this morning. I just- I mean we wanted to tell you right then, but we didn't know how to contact you and Al said you wouldn't be here till later, so we just- can we just go find him now? Please? Will you help us?"

Her eyes went even colder and she let go of him to drag Winry over to a couch and forced her down.

"Ms Rockbell, I need you to calm down. It's not that simple. We can't do this on our own. Give me twenty minutes and I'll have the entire team up here and we can figure this out _together_. Until then I want you and Alphonse to sit down and _stay calm_."

Winry nodded, keeping her eyes cast down. He managed to nod in agreement as well, though his soul felt pinched and tight. He tottered over to the sofa his brother was so fond of sprawling on and tried to unfreeze his systems. Lieutenant Hawkeye wasted no time in going to the telephone and calling out codes, numbers, addresses, and names faster than he could process. He felt like he was being forced through a hole that was too small for him, like his soul was pulling in on itself until he could recenter and expend all this _energy_ he was carrying around with him.

He tried to distract himself with things that were easier to think and see and hold onto. He counted the number of panels on the ceiling, recited the laws of alchemy, traced faces in the grain of Mr Mustang's desk, and made himself as still as possible and pretended that this was all _just a joke, a game of hide-and-seek._

The officers trickled in one by one. Mr Fuery was the first to arrive, taking the phone lines back from Ms Hawkeye and hooking up his personal switchboard, swapping wires, cords, headphones, and receivers with such speed and efficiency that Alphonse wondered if he was part machine himself. Maybe that's why they got along so well. They were both hunks of talking metal. Hah.

Mr Falman was hard on his heels and slipped on his own headset, grabbing a pen and pad of paper. He set to recording the streams of techno-babble shooting from set to set, pausing in his work only long enough to rip off filled sheets and slide them over to Ms Hawkeye.

Mr Breda came in next, looking even more untidy than usual. He had a whispered conversation with Ms Hawkeye and then darted out of the room again after glancing towards the couch.

Mr Havoc and Mr Mustang came in together. He could tell Mr Mustang was in a really bad mood. He could feel the energy bound up in his bloodstream and Alphonse wondered how he didn't simply burst into flames from the sheer _intensity_ of it all. He didn't bother talking to anyone, just stormed into his office and slammed the door behind him. Ms Hawkeye and Mr Havoc exchanged one of those _looks_ that was a whole conversation in a single glance. Then she followed Colonel Mustang into the office and Mr Havoc took her place sorting through the volumes of information pouring from Mr Fuery and Mr Falman.

He wanted to help, he really did, but he didn't know what to _do_.

He pulled armored legs to his chest, arms resting atop his knees so that his eyes were just barely visible between spiked elbow cops. He closed his eyes and focused. It was just a game of hide and seek. He was only waiting for Edward to finish hiding. It was just a game.

He was fine. Winry had heard wrong. Envy didn't have anything to do with this. None of the homunculi did, especially not _that one._

_Just a game_.


	2. Chapter 2

_"One look from you,_

_I know you understand._

_This mess we're in, you know_

_Is just so out of hand."_

_You Got Me- Colbie Caillat_

* * *

"Get. Out."

Jean clapped Falman on the shoulder with a laugh.

"Alright, alright! I'm goin'! You be sure and take care of Barry, 'kay?"

Falman sighed while the Chopper squawked in indignation. With a full-bellied chuckle, Jean let himself out of the apartment and strolled down the street, cheerful whistle trailing behind him.

Things just couldn't be going better.

The Colonel wasn't breathing down his neck, he'd spent the majority of his day running errands out of office, he would be off duty in just a few short hours, and the absolute-without-a-doubt-_best_ thing of all was his upcoming dinner date with Solaris.

Oh, he couldn't wait to see that bombshell of a boob- no wait- boob of a babe- no- bombshell of a babe. He colored at the tangle his thoughts were getting themselves into and agonized for all of a minute before he pictured the dark woman's luscious curves. A goofy grin took over his face and he fazed out of reality for a moment, overcome with giddy disbelief. He didn't know what he'd done to get Solaris to say yes, but he wasn't about to complain, no _sir_.

He sauntered back to Headquarters, hands in pocket and cigarette hanging from his lips. Lost in his thoughts, he trotted up the stairs and turned in surprise when he heard a familiar voice.

"Lieutenant Havoc? What are you doing here?"

Jean grinned and waved at the suit of armor and his vaguely familiar friend, pausing just long enough for the odd couple to join him on the top step.

"Alphonse! I could ask you the same thing! What've you been up to for so long? And who's this? You aren't dragging a pretty girl like her around the country, right?"

He introduced himself to the blushing blonde with a smart salute and broad wink.

"Lieutenant Jean Havoc at your service, Miss."

She smiled and dipped into a slight bow, hands clasped in front of her.

"Winry. Winry Rockbell. I'm Edward's automail mechanic. It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

"Likewise. So Al, what was that you were saying?"

The armored boy shrugged and rubbed the back of his helmet.

"I was just wondering why you were here. I thought you'd be back at East Headquarters with Colonel Mustang."

Alarm bells sounded faintly in the back of his mind. How long had the boys been out of touch? Surely they'd at least contacted the military within the last month or two?

He laughed and took a drag from his cigarette before answering the boy.

"Yeah, about that- it's not just me up here. The whole crew got transferred- Breda, Falman, Fuery, even Hawkeye and the colonel. I thought you'd know about it by now. When was the last time you guys reported in? We've been up here for a month and a half already."

He frowned, eyebrows drawing up in confusion.

"Hey, where's the chief anyhow? He stop by the Library or something?"

Alphonse shifted and the mechanic crossed her arms with a frown.

"I don't know where that jerk went, but if he breaks my automail again, I swear I'll kill him!"

Alphonse squeaked in alarm and waved his arms placatingly.

"Winry! I'm sure Brother's being extra careful with it this time."

The boy turned to meet Jean's gaze and shrugged with embarrassment.

"Sorry. We haven't had any contact with the military since before Brother broke his automail. We just got back from Rush Valley and we were going to report in and drop by to see Mr Hughes, but Brother sort of...wandered off."

Jean felt his blood go cold. They didn't know. He took one last drag of his cigarette and snuffed it out.

"Right. The Colonel-"

His throat closed up for a moment and he coughed to clear it, spinning on his heel and striding through the open entrance.

"The Colonel would probably want you to report in right away. There's probably quite a bit he needs to tell you."

"Yeah, you're right. Winry, is it all right with you if we see the Colonel before we go visit the Hughes? It shouldn't take too long."

"Sure, I guess that'll be okay. Let's try not to take too long though. I'd like to see Mrs Gracia before dinner, if possible."

Jean heard the boy hum in metallic agreement and all he could do was clench his fists as tightly as his heart, pity and guilt and all manner of other things tugging at his insides. He stopped them outside the office door, excusing himself to 'see if the colonel had a visitor.'

He plodded into the outer office and straight to the colonel's sanctuary, ignoring Breda's halfhearted jokes about his lateness. He rapped hard on the door and waited just long enough to hear the first syllable of the word 'enter' before bursting into the office.

He didn't hesitate to march right up to his superior's desk, noting the darkening creases beneath his eye, the way his shoulders didn't fill out his uniform quite as much as they used to, the fragile porcelain skin tone that just a few weeks ago had been robust ivory. He grimaced and filed the observations away, gut tightening further.

"Havoc."

"Sir. Sorry for busting in like this, but we've got a problem."

Colonel Mustang sprang to his feet, already thrusting an arm through the sleeve of his greatcoat.

"Did he escape? Is Falman alright? What happened?"

Jean snagged his superior's arm, tugging him away from the door with just enough force to gain his attention.

"Nossir. Not that kind of problem. Alphonse and the Rockbell girl are here."

The colonel froze, voice crisp, eyes narrowing.

"And how is that a problem? It's about time those boys reported in."

Jean let go of the colonel's arm and looked him in the eye, trying to gauge his reaction.

"Exactly sir. They still don't know."

Mustang's eyes flashed with understanding, face soured.

"I see."

"And that's not all, sir. It's Alphonse and Rockbell. Just them. The chief's not with 'em, and they don't know where he is. Chances are...chances are he's already found out- one way or another."

Mustang's face fell even more, no doubt playing the scenario in his mind's eye.

"It's not right. He shouldn't- they shouldn't have to find out. Not like that."

His voice was hushed, almost mournful in tone and Jean doubted the colonel even knew he'd spoken out loud. He waited patiently, watching as Mustang pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply.

"Alright. Give me a moment to clear my desk and then send them both in. I only want to do this once."

Jean shot off a somber salute and strode out of the office, brushing past Breda with a forced grin.

"Sorry Heymans. It's a little crazy right now. I'll catch you up after-"

He broke his sentence off with another pained half-smile. Breda nodded and waved him off, pretending to flick through a stack of papers on his desk- as if Jean wouldn't notice the worried glances.

Good old Manny.

Jean eased the outer door open and gestured for the kids to enter with a jerk of his head.

"Come on in. It's gonna be a bit before the colonel can see ya, but I figured you wouldn't mind hangin' with the guys for a minute or two."

"I don't mind. It's been a while since we saw everyone. It'll be nice to say hello."

Jean shut the door behind the couple and sauntered over to Fuery's work area while Breda quit pretending to be busy long enough to chat up the new arrivals. No use crowding up the space with his head so full. Besides, Fuery hadn't even looked up from his latest pet project since Havoc had arrived, the little knuckle-head.

He bent down beside the younger man, just out of his line of sight, and positioned his mouth centimeters away from his ear. Oh so carefully, he pushed the headset off-center and stifled a chuckle. Fuery still hadn't noticed him yet. When he had himself under control again, he whispered in the deepest tone he could muster, mimicking the colonel to the very best of his ability.

"Boo."

Fuery startled so hard he knocked his switchboard off the desk and nearly killed himself trying to catch the thing before it hit the floor. After he managed to set the circuitry back on the solid surface and began extracting himself from ripped out wires and plugs, he shot Jean a reproachful look.

"Havoc, I asked you to stop doing that! It's not funny. This is really important stuff, you know!"

Jean laughed and clapped Fuery on the shoulder, slight grin creasing his face.

"Ah come on Fuery! I was only trying to let you know that Alphonse is here for a visit. And here I thought I was doing you a favor."

Fuery's entire face lit up like a roman candle. Jean never could figure out how Fuery was able to switch moods so quickly. Maybe that was just what optimism was like. Nothing could keep you down and your ups were sky-high. He figured he'd never know. He'd always been more of a realist- a cynic even.

"Al's here? That's great! I've been trying to get in contact with him for weeks now!"

Jean quirked an eyebrow questioningly, prompting the shorter man to explain.

"A few months ago Alphonse and I had a talk about using the boys' apartment as a possible temporary home for some of the strays around town. When we all got moved to Central I took him up on his offer since they don't actually use it very often. Colonel Mustang had an extra key and everything, in case something happened, ya know? So, I've been trying to track them down and-"

Jean's other eyebrow joined in the effort to touch the top of his skull. Geez, he was still going! And he'd managed to tangle himself even further around the cords, for a wonder.

"-guess now that they're back in town I should swing by and pick everyone up before Edward gets upset. I'm not sure Al remembered to tell him about our plans. Do you think he'll mind too much?"

Wide eyes stared up at him with a melting intensity, the kind that turned his spine to water and usually ended with him giving in to anything the kid wanted. It wasn't fair that he looked so dratted innocent. He'd seen that look make Hawkeye reconsider. _Hawkeye. Reconsider_.

"Um. Sure. Everything's gonna be fine, Fuery. I, uh. I bet the chief won't even mind that much."

"You think so? I dunno...I hope he won't, but Ed did get pretty mad that one time..."

"Maybe you should just go ask Alphonse about it. I'm sure he'd be more than happy to...discuss things."

Fuery smiled again, a sticky-sweet thing that reminded Jean of days spent chasing his littlest sister around booths at the fair. And with a complex twist of his hands and a flash of nimble fingers, Fuery was free of cords and bounding across the room to greet the towering metal boy.

Jean gave a relieved sigh and settled back against the tech-covered desk. That bought him a little time, if nothing else. With everything that was going on, he really just needed a few minutes to himself to think things over.

He was no genius, he knew that. No one could ever mistake him for having Breda or Mustang or Fuery or Hawkeye or Falman's abilities. He was just an average guy with average skills, the only ordinary person on the team. Maybe everyone else could just figure things out as they went along, but unless one of the others told him the plan, Jean often had no idea what was going on until it was already done. That was just the part he had to play and he'd accepted that fact as soon as he'd officially joined the colonel's chain of command. He could handle it. Had handled it for years.

But this time was different.

He had an aching suspicion that something was _not right_. And if there's one thing he had in spades, it was instinct.

So he turned the day over and over in his mind, sniffing out the exact point that feeling of _wrongness_ took hold.

_I swear I'll kill him...wandered off...they don't know..._

Sickening dread weighted down his stomach.

_They don't know. And neither do we- we have no idea who was responsible for the murder. But at least we know they're out there- we know to be on the lookout- but the chief's got no idea. He's alone and there's a killer on the loose._

And there it was. The not right feeling pulsed in the back of his mind and swelled, pushing away the other concerns of the day and he knew that _this was it._

He strode over to the colonel's office as calmly as he could. He pushed the door open without a sound and slunk inside, shutting the door behind him with care. Mustang was just putting the last stack of papers away and glanced up with the faintest look of surprise ghosting across his face.

"Havoc? What are you doing in here? I asked you to-"

Jean cut him off, words tumbling together in his haste, hand resting uneasily on the pistol at his hip.

"Sorry, sir, but this is important. I don't think it can wait. Look, I've got a real bad feeling about this. Something's wrong. Something is very, _very_ wrong. And I think I've figured out what it is."

The colonel's eyebrow furrowed and he was all business again, sinking into his chair and giving Jean his undivided attention over clasped hands.

"It's Edward, sir. They don't know, see? They don't know there's a killer-"

"Murderer."

"-Murderer on the loose and Edward's just wandered off by himself. I know chances are that he's fine, but I can't shake the feeling that he's in trouble somewhere. You know I don't usually go on about things like this, but..."

He trailed off and ran his thumb across the hammer of his gun, tongue darting out to wet his lips before he continued with a stronger voice.

"Sir, I really think we should look into it. Broadcast a lookout advisory, at the very least. Please, sir."

The colonel's eyes were hooded and his face was pinched.

"Do it. I want everyone on patrol to be on the lookout for him. And if anyone does find him, have them escort him back to base immediately. Fullmetal is not to be left alone. As for Alphonse and Ms. Rockbell, go ahead and send them in. I need to brief them as soon as possible."

"Yes, sir."


	3. Chapter 3

_"So you found out today your life's not the same-_

_Not quite as perfect as it was yesterday. _

_But_

_When you were just getting in the groove_

_Now you're faced with something new."_

_Crossfade- No Giving Up_

* * *

He paced round and round and round his office, absolutely seething with emotion. _Anger_ and worry and irritation and _disbelief_ and determination and _he didn't know what else_ swarmed inside him, sloshing through his bloodstream, supercharging his nerves until he felt like he could _burst_. It couldn't be possible for a human to hold all this- this- _feeling _inside, but he tried his best, bleeding off as much as he could- prowling around his desk, hands flying from pockets to hair to chin to elbows and back again.

He just wanted to _strangle_ something. Wrap his fingers around a throat and _squeeze._

He panted shallowly, breath scraping between his teeth and exiting laced with so much heat you could almost see sparks. What to do, what to do? What had been done? What had even happened? She'd said she'd explain everything once he got there, but he was _here _caging himself in his office and she _wasn't,_ so _what was going on?_ His lungs pulled in as much breath as they could hold, chest filling like a bellows, nostrils flaring and he stalked towards the door. It opened before he could get to it, though and he exhaled in a sibilant hiss, eyes narrowing as his lieutenant slipped into the office without so much as an apology for keeping him waiting.

She met his eyes with a level gaze of her own and he melted inside. He wanted to _loom_ and _roar _and _stomp around_, but that look of hers tugged at him, easing him out of his towering fury until he felt guilty for getting himself so worked up in the first place. He was still absolutely _livid_, but her mere presence soothed him, allowed him to regain control of his runaway temper and _think_.

He stopped and stood in place, ran a stiff hand through his hair, closed his eyes and _breathed_.

"Please tell me this isn't about what I think it's about."

"Sorry, sir."

He barked a laugh and retreated to his desk, collapsing into his favorite chair with a soft _oomph._

_"_So. Havoc was right. Fullmetal really is in trouble."

"Yes, sir."

"Perfect. Just- perfect. How do we know what happened? Are we even sure that this isn't some sort of prank- that it was really Edward?"

"Ms Rockbell received the distress call early this morning- about oh-one hundred, if I'm not mistaken. They arrived at the office about oh-four hundred to inform us of the emergency. As near as I can make out, Alphonse didn't know of another way to contact us. They both seemed certain that it was indeed Edward on the phone and that he truly was in trouble. It seems the call was interrupted by some sort of altercation."

"I see."

He let the information sink in, let the knowledge bubble and froth behind his eyelids.

"Sir...what are we going to do?"

Her voice was soft, apologetic even. He opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling.

"We find him. We track his kidnappers down and drag them all back to Central kicking and screaming. Just like we've always done."

"But sir...what about their...situation."

He jerked his head up, looked her in the eyes and was almost surprised to see a tinge of real fear slinking behind dark sherry. Almost.

"What about it?"

"Sir- if we get Investigations involved- if they start poking around in the boys' past-"

"They won't."

"But-"

"_They won't._ You'd be surprised how many people are covering for those boys and not _one_ of them would sell them out even if the Fuhrer _himself_ was doing the asking. No, their _past_ is safe. It's the future I'm worried about."

"I- yes, sir. Of course, you're absolutely right. So- orders, sir?"

Head tilted back as far as it could go- foot tap, tap, tapping- arms crossed tightly, nails digging into skin- he thought. And thought, thought, thought.

"I assume Fuery and Falman are tapping the city's phone lines?"

"Yes, sir."

"And Breda is...?"

"He said something about putting together a discrete search party."

"Yes, he would. And Havoc?"

"Filtering information at the moment, sir."

"I see."

He sat still for another moment before throwing himself out of his chair in a curious rolling motion, coming to a stop with fingers splayed across his desk.

"Have I told you lately that I value my officers above all else?"

"Nossir."

"An oversight I shall have to correct. And now one of them has gone missing. I'm not happy Hawkeye. Not. One. Bit. I refuse to let him end up like Hughes. This town is already flooded. Come, Hawkeye. Let's go chase down an Elric."

"Thought you'd never ask, sir."

* * *

Colors all mash together into a blue-white-brown-gold-red-black-green puree he can almost taste. Sounds trip over one another on the way into his ears and he's not sure how, but it sounds like the smell of old coffee all harsh-mellow-thick-musty-nauseating in a muddy sort of way. He feels like jam on toast- stretched into a sludgy sort of thin, sticky and too dry all at once with a tinge of red-purple, black-blue or maybe green-yellow seeping into the cracks of his skin. It's...confusing and he's floating, but sinking at the same time- places and people slipping in and out as easily as water drains through his metal fingers. He tries to hold onto them, grabbing at the air and choking out something even he's not sure of, but they vanish before his eyes. The clearest of them- a woman- always the same woman- allows him to brush against her just long enough to make him think this is _real_, she's really _there_ and then she's whisked away again.

Always the same face and shape and sloshy _something_ that melts his world down into sloppy blobs of colorful _somethings_. Somewhere in the back of his mind he thinks this woman-noisything-person is not good- not bad exactly, but _not good_ and he starts to think he should do _something_, but by the time he's pieced it all together she's back with the splashy wetness underneath his nose and everything is forgotten again, dissolving into sightsmellsoundtastefeel.

He wonders if this is what it's like to drown.

* * *

She pieces words together with all the care she can muster, splicing together phrases and sounds and understanding vocalizations until she's got something that resembles what she would really like to say, but knows she never can.

She repeats it again in her mind, tasting and testing the words until she knows they're the right ones. With deliberate slowness she puts away her instincts, instead drawing on the learned professionalism that has been her shield for oh-so-long. She stands. She readies herself for battle and now she faces her adversaries. Seven feet of glittering steel, spiked and shining with an other-worldliness that could make the hardest of souls shake if they don't expect the pink-red glow. Blonde hair and lean muscle, hardened by long hours of metal crafting, bright baby blues that tremble, and bottom lip scarred and raw- bite marks criss-crossing chapped red.

She _will_ do this. It's for the best, after all.

"Alphonse. Ms Rockbell."

Though her touchy-feely impulses are trapped with the rest of her emotions, locked behind a too-thick door she doesn't dare unlock unless she's completely alone, she can't help but soften voice and touch, perching on the barest edge of the ragged sofa- giving the impression that she'll fly away at the slightest provocation. But really she refuses to leave and is choosing the ground for her last stand with infinite care because she knows she will win or she will die trying.

The armored behemoth turns to her with exaggerated slowness, plates grinding against chain-link, eyes glowing dully in the depths of a spiked helmet. The girl is already riveted to her, eyes greedily searching for any scrap of news.

"We need to talk."

They only stare at her, the pinpricks of light that are Alphonse's eyes dulling further.

"It's about Edward."

They both react to that- his gauntlets clenching ever so slightly and eye-sockets flaring with brief intensity, her hands flying to clutch at her gaping mouth. Alphonse's voice sounds impossibly far away- small and metallic, cutting off in strange places and she's beginning to worry.

"Edw- not -t. He's -ouble."

Eye-sockets go dull again and the armor shudders with a muted clang. Winry has shifted to clutch at the armored boy and now turns to face him completely.

"Al? You all right? Come on, quit messing around."

He doesn't respond and her blood thickens in icy dread.

"Alphonse!"


	4. Chapter 4

_"The image won't focus,_

_A blur is all that's seen. _

_But here in this moment-_

_Like the eye of a storm-_

_It all came clear to me._

_I found a shoulder to lean on._

_An infallible reason to live all by itself._

_I took one last look from the heights that I once loved._

_And then I ran like *. Wings won't take me,_

_Heights don't faze me, so take a step-_

_But don't look down."_

_Rise Against- Ready to Fall_

* * *

He didn't have flesh ears to dampen sound, but instead of intercepting and internalizing speech as usual, his soul was on holiday. He could hear an endless ringing- a high-pitched squeal that overrode everything but the low thrumming thud he couldn't put a name to.

Stretched, thick as molasses, and so very, very slow. His world moved at a snail's pace, vision flickering, fading to a greyish-white world he could swear was just as familiar as his own name. Awareness and control of his gargantuan body is random and chancy at best- his fingers clench, relax, clench- a stacatto counter-harmony to the deafening _noise_ inside his mind.

There are vivid moments of knowing- when faces and colors and even more _noisenoisenoise_ override his monochromatic vision and he knows this is

_Wrong. _Something's _wrongwrongwrong_ and Ed is bogged down in its center, sinking into a sticky-sweet something he can't explain.

In those all-important seconds he desperately tries to communicate with the outside world- shouting, screaming, sobbing, shrieking.

"Trouble, trouble, trouble, trouble. He's drowning! We're drowning! Edward. Ed. EdEdEdEd. Not good! It's wrong, help him! Helphelphelp!"

But he can tell they can't hear him and they're just as panicked as he is. So he stops using words and settles for a keening cry that perfectly matches the squeal echoing inside him. He shrinks further in on himself, a frantic mass of frenzied energy and emotion winding himself tighter and tighter and yet tighter until he can break out of this too-familiar place like a coiled spring and finally _act_.

Waiting. _A__lways waiting._

* * *

_"Hawkeye! _Any change yet?"

"No sir!"

"And the Ross case, anything new there?"

"No, nothing."

He swore and threw himself back into his research.

Everything was happening way too fast and none of it made_ any_ sense.

How could a _suit of armor_ be _catatonic_?

It wasn't supposed to be possible, but it was and he didn't know _why_.

This was _not_ his area of expertise and the only two alchemists who had any idea what they were doing when it came to the soul were both unreachable. So here he was, tearing through every alchemy book in his possession and waiting for Havoc to get back with the last boxes of books pilfered from the Elric's apartment. And so far he had learned absolutely _nothing._

He snarled and tossed aside yet another volume about controlling the fire element in riskier transmutations, picking up a thicker tome full of the many varied applications of air-based elements instead.

Air.

You couldn't see air and you couldn't see a soul, so maybe something in here-?

He flipped to the content page, ruthlessly squashing the little voice in the back of his mind that tells him he's just _grasping at straws_ and _the whole idea is ridiculous, so just give up already_. He's half-way through the second edition when Havoc and Falman charge in with a large box piled high with books and he pounces.

He glances at titles and tosses them aside, sorting through them as fast as he can. Over half of them are useless- legends about the philosopher's stone or indexes of the periodic table and the properties of different elements. He pulls out a lone handwritten copy about the interplay between earth and water elements and moves to toss it on the rubbish pile when a note scratched into the binding grabs his attention.

_For C.B. Just in case. -F_

Goosebumps crawl down his spine and he _knows_ that this is _it_.

He's torn between quiet reverence at the thought that Edward had unbent his pride enough to prepare this for him- whatever _this_ was- and just ripping through the thing to get at the information he so desperately needs. He hunches protectively over the pages, the paperback dwarfed by his hands- so much larger than Fullmetal's- and reads.

He's immediately drawn into a world of deceptively complex arrays and intertwining symbols. He wades through endless lists of information about different chemical make-ups and their strengths, noting with grim humor that Edward has taken the time to include an entire chapter on water-proof materials that are capable of producing sparks. And then he finds it.

He devours the chapter, sucking down the younger man's theories in greedy gulps when a single sentence stops him in his tracks.

_Blood- the ultimate combination of the earth and water elements- when properly applied to an array provides the strongest link possible between alchemist and experiment._

His breath catches and he lowers himself into his chair, eyes riveted on yellowed pages.

_I've discovered that this is not always to the alchemist's benefit. Such links are often parasitic, and great care must be taken when using blood as an element in an array. It is unwise to make this element a main component and doubly so to build an array based entirely around this material. Blood possesses both metallic and fluid properties, and also introduces a third elemental type of unknown quantity widely known as the 'soul' or 'life'. This unknown quantity enhances the stabilizing and strengthening properties of iron in the blood. Likewise, the polarity of water is drastically improved, resulting in an equally dramatic increase in the adhesive and cohesive properties of the blood. Because of these dangerous properties, alchemists should take special care when experimenting with living organisms. If two living organisms are bound together with such a link, it is possible that the well-being of one organism will directly affect the other. It is probable that terminating such a bond will result in the death of both organisms. _

_It is not known how to reverse such an effect at this time._

He turns the last page with shaking hands, eyes wide with the terrible implication. There, written on the back cover, bold as brass, is Edward's last message.

_M, if you ever get this- take care of A for me. W, too. See ya Bastard. -E_


	5. Chapter 5

_"I'm hittin' back y'all,_

_Kickin' these four walls-_

_Just as hard as I can_

_'Til I can't crawl._

_I won't waste another day_

_With all these silly things_

_Swimmin' in my brain."_

_Crossfade- No Giving Up_

* * *

"Hmh? What's that? What's happening?"

"We've got an intruder! Come on, give us a hand!"

"What? Uh- behave yourself, got it?"

"I will!"

Ling waved the guard off with a grin, settling back into the shadows of his cell when the older man disappeared from his sight.

He could already hear pistol fire echoing down the halls.

"I wonder...could it be Fu and Lan Fan? No, this doesn't feel like their chi. It's...hollow. Interesting."

He smirked.

"The Elrics aren't the only ones with a dirty little secret after all."

His smirk widened, baring his teeth with a growl.

"Immortality will be mine."

* * *

He stalked the streets of Central, a trained wolfhound straining at the leash around his neck. His coat flared behind him, whipping from side to side with the quickness of his movements. He had no time for _dead ends_ like this one.

He came to an abrupt stop, pulling on embroidered gloves with a smoothly aggressive movement reminiscent of the way a cat unsheathes its claws. Pounding footsteps echoed in the adjacent alley and coal black eyes narrowed.

_It's time to end this._

* * *

There was a period of time that his memory simply fuzzed out of existence. He assumed that during those hours- or days or _weeks_ for all he knew- someone had carted him off that stupid train and left him in some sort of holding cell that looked a heck of a lot like a bedroom in a cheap motel.

Right.

This shouldn't be _too_ difficult then.

He bit down on his tongue and eased his way off the bed he shared with that woman. His skin crawled, he was sore all over, and he could tell he had a large bruise stretching across his face from the way his bone protested pulling muscles, but he didn't dare make a sound. He was still woozy and nauseous and even more tired than before, but somehow he managed to stand and hobble across filthy carpet without so much as a whisper.

The door was bolted shut with a rusting chain stretching from the top corner for extra security. He began detaching the chain as slowly as possible, the clickety-click-click barely audible over the sound of his breathing. A quiet moan made him jump. He whipped his head around and stared at the stirring woman with wide eyes. He chewed at the inside of his lip, debating whether to wait around for a while or get out while he still had the chance.

Then he spotted the small vial of whatever-it-was on a night stand and everything came together.

* * *

The phone rang for what must have been the twentieth time that day. Roy groaned and stretched to lift the earpiece from its cradle, silencing its too loud buzzing.

"Colonel Mustang speaking."

The other end of the line was silent for a moment and then cursed explosively.

Roy froze, voice laced with disbelief.

"You?"

"Just _great._ _You_ are the _last_ person I wanted to talk to, you _Bastard._"

"But you're- you were- and Alphonse!"

Edward's voice grew sharp.

"Whaddaya mean? What's wrong with Al? I swear, if you let anyone so much as touch him, I'll-"

"Wha-? No! No, it isn't like that. Alphonse has been...unwell."

"'Unwell?' What's that supposed to mean? A suit of armor can't get sick, bastard!"

Roy closed his eyes and exhaled.

"No, Edward. We found the book. As far as I can tell, there was an issue with the blood bond between you two. We feared the worst."

"Oh."

He swore, a thread of disbelief and edgy desperation threaded throughout.

"He's okay though- he's fine now, right? Al's fixed?"

"For now."

He swore again and Roy knew he should give the boy a moment to adjust to the news, but he'd already been missing- what? Three days? It seemed like so much longer.

"Edward, where are you? What's going on?"

"I-"

He swore again and shouted at someone else on his end.

"Hey, old man! Where are we right now?"

A pause.

"I already knew that, you old fart!"

Muffled shouting in the background.

"Ah, shut up already!"

He stopped yelling and switched to a quieter tone, though he sounded just as irritated as ever.

"I'm in some sort of motel. It's not far from the train station- I can hear the trains go by sometimes- but I dunno know where exactly. We're in the South, I think. I've given them the slip for a while, but chances are they'll find me before too long."

"Don't be an idiot! If you've given them the slip, then get out of there! You can phone me later, when you're safe."

"It's not- I can't! I already tried. I don't know how or _why_, but the entire _train_ was in on it. The conductor, the men, even a few of the women! And no one even _tried_ stopping them! Look, I dunno how far this thing goes or who they are. I'm- trapped."

It was Roy's turn to swear and he gripped the earpiece even tighter at the news.

"Terrorists? Ishvalans? What did you mean by 'envy?' Ed, I'm doing all I can, but you've _got_ to give me more."

"They aren't Ishvalans. I don't think they're terrorists either. Look, all I know is that there's this one guy-"

He lowered his voice to a whisper, so quiet Roy didn't breathe for fear he might miss something.

"He's a homunculus; calls himself _Envy._ He can change his face like we change clothes. It's _impossible_, but it's true. Watch out for him! He's dangerous and he wants Al just as bad as he wants me. He was at the Fifth Laboratory and he kept calling Al and I 'sacrifices.'"

Roy sucked in a breath, eyes ready to roll out of his head. Ed cut back in hastily, volume at a more normal level.

"Nothing's happened yet. They, uh- they said they don't want to hurt me. They just keep drugging me up. I'm fine. I don't know how long that'll last, but...they need me for _something._ I'll be fine. They're not gonna get rid of me just yet. So just keep an eye on Al for me, okay? I'll figure a way out sooner or later. They've been leaving me with one of the women- she's back in the room right now. I, uh- I made sure she was _asleep_ before I came down."

"Then what do they _want_?"

"Look, I already told you- _I don't know, _and to be honest _I don't want to know._"

Roy snarled in annoyance.

"_Get out of there._ I don't care if you have to run all the way back to Central, get _moving_. Commandeer the train and blast your way out if you have to!"

When Edward next spoke, his voice was tight, as if he was fighting to keep it level.

"Told you I can't. My automail's been off for some reason- I bet the drugs messed with the signals somehow. Even if I could get to the train I don't think I could bust my way through. Look, I've gotta hurry this up. They'll probably notice I'm gone soon and I don't want them to know I contacted you."

Edward swore again and muttered under his breath.

"Speak of the devil. Gotta go, Colonel- looks like they found me. Look after Al and Win for me."

The line went dead before Roy could do more than splutter.

* * *

Edward hung up the phone and turned to glare at the Innkeeper and another man. He thought it was the conductor from the train, but he'd never been particularly good with faces. The maybe-conductor held his hands out in what was probably supposed to look like a calming gesture, but Ed thought it looked more like he was trying to fly off somewhere. His voice had a wheedling tone to it that got on his nerves even worse than the smug-face Colonel's.

"'Lo there, Eddie. How are we feeling today?"

Ed rolled his eyes.

"Absolutely murderous, if you must know."

The man looked taken aback, thin moustache twitching with his lips to form an uneasy smile.

"Yes, I can see you are..._unhappy_ at the moment."

Ed shifted his weight onto his flesh leg, nerve interference causing an unpleasant twinge that made his frown deepen.

"Look, can we just skip to the part where you try to kidnap me again and I beat the pants offa both of ya?"

The Innkeeper- who he privately termed Ol' Stick Up His Rear- was starting to look nervous and that suited Ed just fine. The Conductor- who he now decided was named Wibbly Brow- stuttered and though his voice shook he was clearly trying hard for a soothing tone.

"Now, now Eddie. No need to be so hostile! We just wanted to make sure you got back to your room okay. We don't want any trouble, we're just trying to help Ms A out. Nothing to be alarmed over."

"Right. Because waking up who-knows-where in a bed with someone I've never seen before is _so_ comforting."

Something he said must have upset Wibbly Brow. The older man's face hardened and his posture changed from defensive to offensive in the space of a blink. Ol' Stick Up His Rear firmed up as well, likely in response to Wibbly's sudden growth of a spine.

"I thought that might be the case. I'm afraid you'll have to come with us anyhow, Eddie."

Edward snarled, shifting into his own fighting stance.

"Not on your life, _pal_. You've got _no idea_ who you're messing with."

Wibbly Brow grinned, showing more teeth than was strictly necessary.

"That's where you're wrong, boy. I know exactly who you are. I used to work for your Da, see. And when Ms A came a-knockin', well the least I could do was help her out, right? One last favor for King Curt's Court. Now, we can do this the _easy_ way or the _hard_ way. Which is it gonna be, Eddie boy?"

Ed had no idea what this idiot was going on about, so he didn't bother answering.

Verbally, at least.

The fight didn't last long. Wibbly Brow was better than he looked and Stick Rear managed to circle 'round behind while he was distracted. Ed still couldn't figure out where he'd pulled the club from, but it didn't matter all that much because even if he'd known about it, there hadn't been any way to avoid it.

His head ached, his thoughts were getting even hazier, and there was a cold wet spot spreading across his front. He laughed in disbelief, already slipping into unconsciousness.

_Guess bringing that stuff along wasn't such a bright idea after all..._

* * *

Riza swept a loose strand of hair behind her ear and tugged at her uniform jacket. She took a deep breath and swept into her colonel's office with customary grace.

She expected him to be lost in thought, playing chess, or even doing actual work to take his mind off things for a while. She did _not_ expect him to be staring at the telephone in his hand with the expression of a pole-axed ox.

"Sir?"

He startled and jerked around to fix her with wide eyes. He gaped at her for an instant before looking at the phone again and dropping it into the cradle like it had burned him. His hand hovered over the machine for a moment, but he tore his eyes away to meet her gaze.

"Hawkeye."

His voice cracked and she could see him gulp, as if his mouth were too dry to say anymore.

"Sir? Has something happened?"

She maintained her cool and calm exterior, but on the inside she was despairing. She honestly didn't know how much more bad news they could take. Not since Edward was...gone.

"It was him."

"Him?"

Roy leaped to his feet, hand sweeping hair away from his face and a slow grin spreading across his face.

"I can't _believe_ it."

She was getting annoyed now. She wasn't the most patient of women and she didn't think pussy-footing around a matter was any sort of solution. She frowned and eyed him frostily.

"And _what_ is it that you can't believe sir?"

He barked a laugh and spun towards her, gripping her forearms and shaking her in his excitement.

"He's _alive_! I can't believe this! That stupid little pain-in-the-neck's _alive_!"

Her mouth dropped open and her eyes widened, searching his gleaming eyes for the truth of the matter.

"Edward?"

He let go of her and whirled around to slip on his greatcoat.

"Who else? That little idiot! I've got to see Alphonse- there's so much to _do_."

She spun and tried to grab him, but he was already out the door and fleeing the office with all speed. She folded her arms huffily, trying to hide the smile pulling at the corners of her lips. It looked like things would get back to normal faster than she expected. She harrumphed, shook her head, and exited the inner office, shutting the door tightly behind her. The unsightly pile of paperwork would just have to wait until her colonel came back.

The boys in the outer office were already standing, and when they spotted her they promptly swamped her with all sorts of tedious questions. She didn't quite have the heart to scold them, though. Not after such a rough week. So she smiled the tiniest smile she possibly could and gestured for silence. They quieted immediately, as had been their habit since the Colonel's last outburst.

"It's Edward."

If they were quiet before, now they were absolutely speechless, waiting with baited breath to hear the latest news, Fuery's eyes already overbright.

"He's alive."

They erupted into cheers, Havoc and Breda laughing and tackling each other with gusto. Fuery...well, Fuery did what he always did. Havoc leaned over and pulled him into an enthusiastic side-hug. Breda joined in with glee, laughing, ruffling hair, and slapping backs. The three even broke into a hop-skip of a dance that was as exuberant as it was ridiculous.

With great satisfaction, she slipped over to the telephones. She could think of several others who would be just as relieved to hear the news.


	6. Chapter 6

**Small note on Xingese customs: I'm basing most of this off of various East Asian rituals, but I'm well aware that I'm probably messing something up. If you have better information about this sort of thing than I do, please let me know!**

_"This melody will never speak_

_All the things that I regret-_

_If I could say anything-_

_My apologies for the way I ended things."_

_Our July in the Rain- He is We  
_

* * *

Ling frowned, hands on knees, and spiked bangs hanging low over his eyes.

"So you're telling me that you don't know the secret of immortality either?"

"'Fraid not!" The Chopper seemed to grin even through the metal, almost disgustingly pleased with himself.

The Xingese prince groaned and slumped forward.

"That's really not _fair!_ Two immortal beings right in front of me and I _still_ don't know the secret."

Alphonse shifted stiffly and muttered an apology, clearly uncomfortable with Barry's presence.

Another frown creased the prince's face until he straightened, face brightening and finger waggling enthusiastically.

"That's right! Hey, you said your brother did the transmutation, right? He could tell me how it's done, yes?"

Alphonse fidgeted uneasily, unable to tear his gaze from the other suit of armor.

"I guess that's true. But those homunculus things have him, remember?"

Ling nodded solemnly, resting chin in palm.

"Yes, I see. That _is_ a problem."

He jumped to his feet abruptly and put hands on hips with a decisive smirk.

"Nothing for it, I suppose. Lan Fan! Let's go. I want to find these _homunculus_ as soon as possible."

The couple vaulted through the open window and disappeared into the night, leaving the armored beings alone in deafening silence. Alphonse startled at the realization and hurried for the door, anxious to escape the Chopper's abrasive presence.

"Hey kid!"

Al winced and stopped in his tracks, fingers just resting on the doorknob.

"What makes you think that your 'brother' _wants_ to come back? He probably just got tired of you and decided to skip town. Ha, he could even be making another you right now! One that's not so pathetically_ needy _and _annoying._ _I_ would. You're such a _goody-goody_- it's _sickening."_

Alphonse stiffened and spun around, enraged.

"Shut up! Brother would never do that! You don't know what you're talking about, so just- shut- up!" He rushed at the other metal man thunderously, a threatening finger thrust towards his visor.

"The only reason I'm not tearing you apart _right now_ is because you're helping us find the homunculi! But if you _ever_ say anything to me again- _especially_ about _my brother_- I'll- I'll- I'll take you apart and leave you in the streets!"

The Chopper threw his head back and howled with laughter.

Alphonse clenched his fists and walked away.

* * *

Alex Louis Armstrong was not used to being secretive. On the contrary, the Armstrong family prided honesty and did their best to showcase that most honorable of virtues in every aspect by being notoriously obvious about _everything._ It was strange, then, to ride through the ruins of Xerxes cloaked and hooded like a refugee, sneaking around broken columns and crumbling foundations.

But there was something the Armstrong family valued even more- something so laudable that generation after generation had sacrificed to maintain that most perfect of virtues- doing the _right _thing.

And though the right thing to do in this case conflicted so harshly with every other value he'd ever been taught, he simply grit his teeth and bore the shame. Because it _was_ the right thing. It was.

He spotted the designated meeting place just ahead, a broad well in surprisingly good keeping, the surrounding area swept clean of rubble. He reigned in his horse and gestured for his companion to do the same, sharp blue eyes carefully searching the area. He saw no sign of their contact, but neither was there evidence of unfriendly eyes. Nevertheless he urged his mount forward, a cutting gesture signalling the other to stay put.

He rode into the small clearing at a smooth walk, head on a swivel to catch any sign of hostile presences. He cased the area for a moment longer and was just turning to sound the all clear when the air blurred and an aged man materialized before him. Alex's mount danced away in distress, forcing the Strong Arm Alchemist to subdue the animal and ready himself for combat all at once.

The older man simply bowed in a fashion he'd seen used many a time by the family's Xingese acquaintances.

"Master Ling Yao of Xing, twelfth son of our Lord Emperor and crown prince of the Yao clan, sends his greetings."

Armstrong dismounted and returned the bow in the proper manner for his station- hands clasped to his side, a slight inclination of the head, and a meeting of the eyes to show respect and no intention of deceit- before addressing the Prince's man.

"Greetings. I am Alex Louis Armstrong, eldest son of House Armstrong, State Alchemist of Major rank in the Amestrian military. May I assume that you are the one called Fu?"

The servant straightened decisively, dark eyes sharp and focused despite his many years met Alex's piercing blue with near defiance.

"I am. And you bring a package meant for Xing, do you not?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

Alex looked over his shoulder and hailed his companion with an upraised arm.

"It is quite alright, Lieutenant Ross! You may approach without reservation!"

The slight lieutenant emerged from the shadows in measured steps. She flashed the major an uneasy smile and crossed the clearing with palpable nervousness, peering into the depths of the surrounding ruins with worried eyes. When she reached the pair she hesitated before bowing clumsily, inclining her head more than necessary to a man of Fu's status.

"Lieu- Maria Ross, sir. "

Fu grunted and crossed his arms.

"There is no need to bow to me, child. I am no lord that you should abase yourself; nor am I your father."

Here he hesitated, appraising her with knowing eyes.

"Though you do bear the look of Xing..."

He turned to Alex abruptly, ignoring Ross' muted gasp.

"You have done well to bring her this far. She will do well in my homeland. I swear on my life to watch over her as I would my own daughter until she is safe. And my clan will ensure she stays safe."

Alex nodded.

"My deepest thanks."

He turned and offered his hand to the younger woman, pulling her in for a bone-breaking hug.

"Good luck, lieutenant. I will miss you dearly."

She squirmed her way free and skipped a step away, smiling at him gently.

"Thank you, major. For everything. I can't tell you how much I appreciate everything you and Colonel Mustang have done for me. If there's an emergency, please do not hesitate to call me back. To repay my debt of gratitude, when that time comes, use my life to do something about it. I'll be there. No matter what."

She dipped into another bow, even lower than her first.

"Thank you!"

Armstrong placed a grave hand on her shoulder, tipping her face up with the other.

"Lieutenant Maria Ross. We will also be working to achieve the day when we can greet your return to our country with open arms. This I swear."

"It is time."

Ross straightened and mounted her horse. Without another word she followed Fu into the East, never daring to glance behind. When they were out of the ruins and well into the dunes, she broke her silence.

"Mr. Fu? What kind of country is Xing?"

"As we are rich in people and food, our pockets and hearts are deep. An excellent country. It is a good place to get peace of mind."

"Would it be okay...if I think that once we cross this desert, paradise awaits me on the other side?"

Fu grunted an agreement and glanced to the side before averting his eyes.

"However...crossing the desert is quite a harsh task. Do keep your spirits up. We cannot afford to waste a bit of water from now on."

Ross choked and covered her eyes with an elbow.

_Thank you. Thank you, thank you, thank you!_


	7. Chapter 7

_"Take your time,_

_Take a look into my eyes,_

_This time I'ma take you for a ride,_

_I'm invincible tonight!"_

_Adelitas Way- Invincible_

* * *

"Hey Roy, you there?"

"Braidykins! Glad to hear from ya, buddy; it's been too long."

The other man chuckled quietly, a tired thing, but enough to dampen the Colonel's inner spark of irritation.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's been pretty busy down here. I've been running around town all day, visiting all our friends. I even met up with some old friends of Elle and Allie's while I was visiting my Lark."

"Is that so? What a coincidence! Did Lark share one of her new songs with everyone?"

"Hm, not this time. Same old, same old, you know. But that Izumi's quite a songbird herself. In fact, I think she and her husband are planning to come perform for you in person. They were pretty excited when I told them about your taste in music."

"Is that so? Well, I'll be looking forward to it. I'm sure Allie would appreciate a private concert just as much as I do."

"Yeah, I bet she would. Hm, is that the time? Sorry, Roy. I've gotta get going. My train's gonna be leaving any minute now. I'll try and catch up with ya next week."

"Of course. Take care."

_Click-ick._

"Operator, transfer me to line 2-0-0-9, extension 0-4-1-5, Pass-code Mike Uniform 8-5."

"Very good, sir. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Hello?"

"Ah, Kate! How's it going over at the shop?"

"Oh, Mr. Mustang! It's been pretty quiet so far. I don't think we've had a single customer all day."

"I see. Then would you mind putting Elizabeth on? I'd love to talk with her for a bit."

"Of course. Just a minute."

"Yes?"

"Elizabeth! It's so great to talk to you! It feels like forever since I've seen you."

She laughed.

"Now that's hardly the truth, Roy. Didn't we just see you last night?"

"Like I said- it feels like forever. You know, a lot's been happening lately. You remember Allie? Turns out some old friends of hers are coming to town to give a private concert- you should come too. I'm sure one of us could get you in."

"Hm, I don't know Roy. The shop could get pretty busy between now and then. Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Of course! I'm sure the other girls could handle everything for a few hours. Besides, Braidykins said we wouldn't want to miss this one, said she sings like a bird."

"Well, I suppose I could work something out."

"Excellent. I think I'll stop by your store tomorrow. What do you want as your gift, Elizabeth?"

"Oh- Pardon me, Roy. Kate, we have some customers. Could you go get Jacqueline?"

"A customer, huh? Anyone I know?"

"No, I don't think so. They look like a first-timer. Jacqueline should be fine."

"I should hope so. She's got nearly as much as experience as you."

"Mmhm. Just a minute, Roy."

_Bang!_

"Sounds a little noisy over there. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing at all. The customer tried to play a prank on Jacqueline, so I hit him a little."

"Oh my. You're harsh, Elizabeth."

"Well, one thing leads to another after all. Jacqueline should really be more careful. I thought she was too good to let herself be tricked like that."

"Well, everyone has their off-day."

She snorted.

"She could have picked a better time. Though...I don't know Roy, this guy might not be worth her time.

"What's wrong?"

"I wonder if it's a fight? It seems like there's some trouble between her and the customer."

A beat of breath- if he didn't know better he would have called it a gasp of surprise.

"Oops. I'll have to call you back. I've got a customer, too."

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -Bang!_

"Elizabeth? Hey! What's going on?"

_Slam._

"Bring my car forward immediately!"

* * *

Alphonse buckled the last strap into place, double-checking the integrity of the leather and watching the streets below intently. Behind him Ling and Lan Fan skulked in the shadows, meditating with eyes closed.

Apparently the Xingese were adept at sensing something called chi- Al didn't quite believe it, but they said they could tell what was happening without even looking. He guessed it made a _little_ sense. If they really could sense someone's chi, it would explain how they always found him so easily- but if that was the case, why was Ling always getting lost?!

Ugh, nothing made sense anymore! And even if they _could_ sense what was happening, Al felt better keeping an eye out for trouble.

Speaking of trouble...

Mr. Havoc, Mr. Falman, and the Chopper all spilled out into the street, guns blazing. Seconds later a wild looking man leapt out of the same building and crouched on the gray-toned brick, feinting left and right like a beast at bay. Alphonse crouched to one knee, trying to catch a better look at the man's face- that was his job. He was supposed to let the Colonel and his team know when any of the Homunculi showed up- if they ever did.

The crazy man didn't look like any of the Homunculi he'd ever seen, though. Maybe it was one of those half-human chimera, like Martel. It was probably best to go ahead and get down there- if the man _was_ a chimera, Mr. Havoc might be out of his league.

No sooner had he decided to interfere than the wild man jumped at the masked lieutenant. Alphonse watched as Havoc fired off two shots, both going wide. He yelled a panicked warning to the man, eyes going wide and trying to think of a last-minute transmutation that might be able to help. A single shot sounded and Al sighed in relief as the feral man jerked to the side, retreating with sluggishly bleeding hand clasped to his chest. He didn't waste anymore time; he vaulted off the building's roof with ease, ignoring the Xingese couple's quiet exclamations of surprise and confusion.

He landed with a muffled thud and metallic clatter. He regained his footing and bolted for Mr. Havoc's group, freezing in place when he heard the Chopper's soul-chilling laughter.

"This brings back so many memories! I haven't seen it since I had my soul pulled out of me! This is just great! This is like the once in a lifetime chance for me to cut up my own body as much as I want!"

Al's soul shuddered, his vision tunneling into a white haze. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd knocked Mr. Havoc aside and had Barry by the throat.

"No! You can't! What are you saying? That's your _body_! You can't _chop it up_!"

The Chopper laughed in his face, cleaver pointing carelessly toward his previous body.

"That body won't last much longer. Argh, I can't stand it anymore! My soul keeps shaking...it wants to cut him up!"

Barry powered his way out of Al's grip, shoving the armored boy aside and throwing him to the ground.

"I get to decide what to do with my own body! And I'm going to cut it up!"

Barry the Chopper launched himself at the rotting corpse, gleefully ignoring Havoc's enraged command to listen to reason. Alphonse sat sprawled on the ground, watching with horrified fascination as the armored criminal swung his blade with vicious purpose. Falman crouched over his shell-shocked form, looking intently at the eye sockets of his helmet, doing his level best to ignore the homicidal- the suicidal- the serial killer behind him.

"Alphonse? Are you still with us?"

The essence of his spirit wavered before settling on a dim crimson, almost bloody in color.

"How could he…that _monster! _It's not right…It's not right at all! Why? Why does he deserve a body! He doesn't even want it! He's just going to destroy it, and-!"

He cut himself off, vision flickering at another realization.

"But it's already dead, isn't it? The body rots without its soul…What if my body is…No! It can't be, it's not possible! Not after everything we've been through. Not after Brother-not after that!"

Falman shared an uneasy look with Havoc, the older soldier struggling to find the words to deal with the situation. Havoc took over with reluctance, crouching next to the boy and gesturing for Falman to keep an eye on the situation.

"Look, Al, buddy-"

Alphonse clutched the soldier's jacket with desperation, voice panicked and laden with so much anger and frustration that Havoc almost couldn't believe it was really the sweet twelve year old he'd come to know and like these past years.

"It's not true! My body's fine; Brother and I are gonna get it back- and we'll get his body back, too!"

Havoc's eyes widened, free hand fighting to pry the steel fingers loose.

"Al, cut it out, man! Nobody's trying to tell you any different, so snap out of it! You just gotta calm down and think for a minute, buddy. Look, we gotta find the chief first. You got that, kid? We've gotta focus on one problem at a time, so let's find Ed and _then_ we can focus on everything else. Everything's gonna turn out fine, you'll see."

The boy's grip loosened, his tone morphing into something much younger, something sad and small and very much alone- something that had gone so far beyond fear that the only thing left was crippling exhaustion.

"How do you know for sure?"

Havoc smirked and offered the child a hand up.

"You kidding? There's no way in Hell Ed would let anything happen to you or your body. I'd like to see somebody even _think_ about touching you- by the time your big brother was done with 'em, I bet they'd rather meet the devil himself!"

Al took the offered hand and stood tall and straight, smiling softly at the very idea.

"Yeah. You're right."

Falman interrupted then, shouting loudly just as several shots rang out from the Hawk's perch.

"I hate to cut in, but your target's getting away!"

Havoc swore, shooting a look at the tower just a few streets away.

"Alright, alright! Al, you better come with me. Falman, get outta sight, grab a disguise, and see if you can get in touch with Hawkeye- actually, forget about the disguise, just get over there! Here."

He threw his spare .45 to the older man and took off running. Al nodded and followed behind, wondering for the briefest second what Ling and Lan Fan had been doing during the entire fiasco.

* * *

Riza steadily backed away from the approaching man, pointing one of three handguns directly at the center of his massive bulk.

"Who are you?"

"I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. Can I eat you now?"

He took a step forward, finger dragging a trail of drool from his mouth as he reached for her, as if he could touch her even now. Her eyes narrowed and she squeezed off a warning shot, the bullet striking the man's shoulder and disappearing without a trace. The man paused and looked at his chest as if confused by the impact.

"That wasn't very nice...You should stop so I can eat you."

Riza's expression twisted, a grim smirk making her all the more fearsome. She shifted her aim, drawing a bead on the creature's heart without the slightest hesitation.

"Not likely, _homunculus._"

The homunculus' blank look shifted to meet her sherry eyes before a fearsome grin overtook its flabby face.

"Ohh, Father won't like _that._ You know too much. Lust was right, I should eat you up right _now!_"

It launched itself forward with tongue lolling, chin dripping saliva, and arms outstretched. Riza fired- over and over again, bullets punching through layers of blubber, muscle, and bone until the clip ran out. She dropped her weapon and pulled out the next pistol in the same motion, smoothly drawing another bead on the target and waiting for it to finish regenerating.

"Owwie. That _hurt._"

She shifted position, smirk long since dragged into a deep frown.

"Be quiet. I know what you are, and I know what you and those _other_ homunculi did."

She cocked her pistol, turning the barrel of the gun up to point directly between the thing's too-close eyes.

"So now you're going to tell me _exactly_ what I want to know. _Where is Edward Elric?_"

It cocked its head to the side, nibbling on the tip of its own finger. It was completely silent, perfectly content to stare at her as seconds passed into minutes. Sweat beaded down the side of her face and soaked the back of her uniform, though her expression never wavered from the intimidating mixture of extreme displeasure and impatience- even revulsion. She was beginning to think something wasn't right here. It righted itself abruptly, pulling the finger from its mouth and pointing the slobbery, bloody thing at her.

"You don't make sense. I'm going to eat you now, okay?"

Her eyes widened and she emptied her clip into the monster, leaping aside as she pulled her final handgun from its holster, a revolver that had only been issued last year but was already worn smooth from constant use, the gun that was fast becoming her favorite among the smaller calibers. It had her by the throat then, and it was all she could do to keep firing into the creature. Shot after shot punched through skin and was swallowed by the creature's massive bulk. A minute passed and she finally realized she'd already run out of bullets, her last few pulls of the trigger producing nothing but a muted _click._ She dropped the handgun without a second thought, kicking and prying at the thick hands around her neck with desperate fingers; just as the edges of her vision darkened and the room started to sway, someone shouted and another round of fire blasted into the creature.

It dropped her out of sheer surprise, leaving her to scramble away, snatching the abandoned revolver on the way. She coughed, voice a rough croak, trembling as her body recovered from the stress, eyes watering even as she glanced up at her unexpected ally.

"What are you doing here?"

Falman smiled at her, a razor's edge with a hint of uncertainty.

"My apologies. Things got a little more complicated than we planned for. I heard you might need some help, so I came to give you a hand."

She panted and pressed herself against the wall, the homunculus already regenerating and voicing its irritation.

"Any chance you've got another one of those?"

"No. I only brought the one."

She sighed and fumbled with a box of ammunition tucked behind her belt, loading the revolver with practiced hands, though they were still a trifle shaky.

"I see. This might get a bit tight, then."

The homunculus finished it's cycle and lunged for them again, both soldiers firing methodically into the creature, blasting it back with a constant barrage of bullets. Falman's clip ran out halfway through Riza's round, leaving the man fumbling to reload the unfamiliar weapon. Riza grit her teeth and worked up to her feet, standing as she squeezed yet another bullet from her gun.

"Wait until I'm done to shoot! We'll hold out as long as we can until reinforcements arrive."

Falman called out an affirmative, but it was lost in the creature's howl of rage at the word 'reinforcements.' As if some sort of switch had been flipped, it ran at them like an enraged bear, ignoring the bullets pounding into its fleshy body. In an effort to drive the beast back, Falman added his own shots to the fray, the soldiers shooting in tandem for all of three seconds, that is, until Riza's last bullet left the barrel of her revolver. She swore and flicked the cylinder open, stuffing bullets into chambers as fast as she could. She wasn't even half-done when Falman's clip ran out as well, and the roaring homunculus was finally within arm's length.

She'd nearly given up on the both of them surviving when a growling streak of black and white launched at the monster, tearing at the skin of its chest and face, driving him back once more.

"Falman! Catch!"

Fuery burst into the room, tossing an extra pistol to the older man and laying into the homunculus with gusto. At the first click of the guns' trigger, Hayate leapt away, already more than used to retreating when weapons were drawn. Falman joined Fuery in the fray, aiming the much more familiar 9mm with comparative ease. Hawkeye soon had her revolver loaded and ready, adding yet another stream of fire to the near-deafening attack.

The homunculus was reduced to gaping wounds and wobbling flesh, but still, by some measure of fortitude, stumbled on- the writhing bloody mass advancing inch by crucial inch. Riza clutched her weapon with chagrin, amazement and horror warring for the uppermost place in her mind, trying to think of any possible way to subdue the monster- even if it was only just barely long enough to find out what they so desperately needed to know.

She couldn't think of a single one.

Fuery was the first to run out of ammo, throwing his pistol down and readying to fight with his fists, if need be- prepared to face his death like the brave little soldier he was. Falman was next, and after the briefest expression of disbelief, assumed his normal stoic exterior and stood absolutely still, as if resigned to simply wait for his own execution. Mere seconds later, she too found herself facing the immortal _thing_ with no time to reload and no hope of escape. She tucked the still-hot revolver into the holster hanging from her belt and relaxed into one of the many stances of self-defense she'd picked up over the years.

She doubted they would last two minutes against the homunculus. _She knew_ they were going to die. But she faced her death with a beatific smile on her face, one of the very few the men had ever seen.

Because not once had her Colonel's men even _thought_ to run away.


	8. Chapter 8

_"Take your time,_

_Take a look into my eyes,_

_This time I'ma take you for a ride,_

_I'm invincible tonight!"_

_Adelitas Way- Invincible_

* * *

"Hey Roy, you there?"

"Braidykins! Glad to hear from ya, buddy; it's been too long."

The other man chuckled quietly, a tired thing, but enough to dampen the Colonel's inner spark of irritation.

"Yeah, sorry about that. It's been pretty busy down here. I've been running around town all day, visiting all our friends. I even met up with some old friends of Elle and Allie's while I was visiting my Lark."

"Is that so? What a coincidence! Did Lark share one of her new songs with everyone?"

"Hm, not this time. Same old, same old, you know. But that Izumi's quite a songbird herself. In fact, I think she and her husband are planning to come perform for you in person. They were pretty excited when I told them about your taste in music."

"Is that so? Well, I'll be looking forward to it. I'm sure Allie would appreciate a private concert just as much as I do."

"Yeah, I bet she would. Hm, is that the time? Sorry, Roy. I've gotta get going. My train's gonna be leaving any minute now. I'll try and catch up with ya next week."

"Of course. Take care."

_Click-ick._

"Operator, transfer me to line 2-0-0-9, extension 0-4-1-5, Pass-code Mike Uniform 8-5."

"Very good, sir. Will that be all?"

"Yes, thank you."

"Hello?"

"Ah, Kate! How's it going over at the shop?"

"Oh, Mr. Mustang! It's been pretty quiet so far. I don't think we've had a single customer all day."

"I see. Then would you mind putting Elizabeth on? I'd love to talk with her for a bit."

"Of course. Just a minute."

"Yes?"

"Elizabeth! It's so great to talk to you! It feels like forever since I've seen you."

She laughed.

"Now that's hardly the truth, Roy. Didn't we just see you last night?"

"Like I said- it feels like forever. You know, a lot's been happening lately. You remember Allie? Turns out some old friends of hers are coming to town to give a private concert- you should come too. I'm sure one of us could get you in."

"Hm, I don't know Roy. The shop could get pretty busy between now and then. Do you think that's a good idea?"

"Of course! I'm sure the other girls could handle everything for a few hours. Besides, Braidykins said we wouldn't want to miss this one, said she sings like a bird."

"Well, I suppose I could work something out."

"Excellent. I think I'll stop by your store tomorrow. What do you want as your gift, Elizabeth?"

"Oh- Pardon me, Roy. Kate, we have some customers. Could you go get Jacqueline?"

"A customer, huh? Anyone I know?"

"No, I don't think so. They look like a first-timer. Jacqueline should be fine."

"I should hope so. She's got nearly as much as experience as you."

"Mmhm. Just a minute, Roy."

_Bang!_

"Sounds a little noisy over there. Is something wrong?"

"Nothing at all. The customer tried to play a prank on Jacqueline, so I hit him a little."

"Oh my. You're harsh, Elizabeth."

"Well, one thing leads to another after all. Jacqueline should really be more careful. I thought she was too good to let herself be tricked like that."

"Well, everyone has their off-day."

She snorted.

"She could have picked a better time. Though...I don't know Roy, this guy might not be worth her time.

"What's wrong?"

"I wonder if it's a fight? It seems like there's some trouble between her and the customer."

A beat of breath- if he didn't know better he would have called it a gasp of surprise.

"Oops. I'll have to call you back. I've got a customer, too."

_Bang! Bang! Bang! Bang! -Bang!_

"Elizabeth? Hey! What's going on?"

_Slam._

"Bring my car forward immediately!"

* * *

Alphonse buckled the last strap into place, double-checking the integrity of the leather and watching the streets below intently. Behind him Ling and Lan Fan skulked in the shadows, meditating with eyes closed.

Apparently the Xingese were adept at sensing something called chi- Al didn't quite believe it, but they said they could tell what was happening without even looking. He guessed it made a _little_ sense. If they really could sense someone's chi, it would explain how they always found him so easily- but if that was the case, why was Ling always getting lost?!

Ugh, nothing made sense anymore! And even if they _could_ sense what was happening, Al felt better keeping an eye out for trouble.

Speaking of trouble...

Mr. Havoc, Mr. Falman, and the Chopper all spilled out into the street, guns blazing. Seconds later a wild looking man leapt out of the same building and crouched on the gray-toned brick, feinting left and right like a beast at bay. Alphonse crouched to one knee, trying to catch a better look at the man's face- that was his job. He was supposed to let the Colonel and his team know when any of the Homunculi showed up- if they ever did.

The crazy man didn't look like any of the Homunculi he'd ever seen, though. Maybe it was one of those half-human chimera, like Martel. It was probably best to go ahead and get down there- if the man _was_ a chimera, Mr. Havoc might be out of his league.

No sooner had he decided to interfere than the wild man jumped at the masked lieutenant. Alphonse watched as Havoc fired off two shots, both going wide. He yelled a panicked warning to the man, eyes going wide and trying to think of a last-minute transmutation that might be able to help. A single shot sounded and Al sighed in relief as the feral man jerked to the side, retreating with sluggishly bleeding hand clasped to his chest. He didn't waste anymore time; he vaulted off the building's roof with ease, ignoring the Xingese couple's quiet exclamations of surprise and confusion.

He landed with a muffled thud and metallic clatter. He regained his footing and bolted for Mr. Havoc's group, freezing in place when he heard the Chopper's soul-chilling laughter.

"This brings back so many memories! I haven't seen it since I had my soul pulled out of me! This is just great! This is like the once in a lifetime chance for me to cut up my own body as much as I want!"

Al's soul shuddered, his vision tunneling into a white haze. Before he realized what he was doing, he'd knocked Mr. Havoc aside and had Barry by the throat.

"No! You can't! What are you saying? That's your _body_! You can't _chop it up_!"

The Chopper laughed in his face, cleaver pointing carelessly toward his previous body.

"That body won't last much longer. Argh, I can't stand it anymore! My soul keeps shaking...it wants to cut him up!"

Barry powered his way out of Al's grip, shoving the armored boy aside and throwing him to the ground.

"I get to decide what to do with my own body! And I'm going to cut it up!"

Barry the Chopper launched himself at the rotting corpse, gleefully ignoring Havoc's enraged command to listen to reason. Alphonse sat sprawled on the ground, watching with horrified fascination as the armored criminal swung his blade with vicious purpose. Falman crouched over his shell-shocked form, looking intently at the eye sockets of his helmet, doing his level best to ignore the homicidal- the suicidal- the serial killer behind him.

"Alphonse? Are you still with us?"

The essence of his spirit wavered before settling on a dim crimson, almost bloody in color.

"How could he…that _monster! _It's not right…It's not right at all! Why? Why does he deserve a body! He doesn't even want it! He's just going to destroy it, and-!"

He cut himself off, vision flickering at another realization.

"But it's already dead, isn't it? The body rots without its soul…What if my body is…No! It can't be, it's not possible! Not after everything we've been through. Not after Brother-not after that!"

Falman shared an uneasy look with Havoc, the older soldier struggling to find the words to deal with the situation. Havoc took over with reluctance, crouching next to the boy and gesturing for Falman to keep an eye on the situation.

"Look, Al, buddy-"

Alphonse clutched the soldier's jacket with desperation, voice panicked and laden with so much anger and frustration that Havoc almost couldn't believe it was really the sweet twelve year old he'd come to know and like these past years.

"It's not true! My body's fine; Brother and I are gonna get it back- and we'll get his body back, too!"

Havoc's eyes widened, free hand fighting to pry the steel fingers loose.

"Al, cut it out, man! Nobody's trying to tell you any different, so snap out of it! You just gotta calm down and think for a minute, buddy. Look, we gotta find the chief first. You got that, kid? We've gotta focus on one problem at a time, so let's find Ed and _then_ we can focus on everything else. Everything's gonna turn out fine, you'll see."

The boy's grip loosened, his tone morphing into something much younger, something sad and small and very much alone- something that had gone so far beyond fear that the only thing left was crippling exhaustion.

"How do you know for sure?"

Havoc smirked and offered the child a hand up.

"You kidding? There's no way in Hell Ed would let anything happen to you or your body. I'd like to see somebody even _think_ about touching you- by the time your big brother was done with 'em, I bet they'd rather meet the devil himself!"

Al took the offered hand and stood tall and straight, smiling softly at the very idea.

"Yeah. You're right."

Falman interrupted then, shouting loudly just as several shots rang out from the Hawk's perch.

"I hate to cut in, but your target's getting away!"

Havoc swore, shooting a look at the tower just a few streets away.

"Alright, alright! Al, you better come with me. Falman, get outta sight, grab a disguise, and see if you can get in touch with Hawkeye- actually, forget about the disguise, just get over there! Here."

He threw his spare .45 to the older man and took off running. Al nodded and followed behind, wondering for the briefest second what Ling and Lan Fan had been doing during the entire fiasco.

* * *

Riza steadily backed away from the approaching man, pointing one of three handguns directly at the center of his massive bulk.

"Who are you?"

"I'm hungry. I'm so hungry. Can I eat you now?"

He took a step forward, finger dragging a trail of drool from his mouth as he reached for her, as if he could touch her even now. Her eyes narrowed and she squeezed off a warning shot, the bullet striking the man's shoulder and disappearing without a trace. The man paused and looked at his chest as if confused by the impact.

"That wasn't very nice...You should stop so I can eat you."

Riza's expression twisted, a grim smirk making her all the more fearsome. She shifted her aim, drawing a bead on the creature's heart without the slightest hesitation.

"Not likely, _homunculus._"

The homunculus' blank look shifted to meet her sherry eyes before a fearsome grin overtook its flabby face.

"Ohh, Father won't like _that._ You know too much. Lust was right, I should eat you up right _now!_"

It launched itself forward with tongue lolling, chin dripping saliva, and arms outstretched. Riza fired- over and over again, bullets punching through layers of blubber, muscle, and bone until the clip ran out. She dropped her weapon and pulled out the next pistol in the same motion, smoothly drawing another bead on the target and waiting for it to finish regenerating.

"Owwie. That _hurt._"

She shifted position, smirk long since dragged into a deep frown.

"Be quiet. I know what you are, and I know what you and those _other_ homunculi did."

She cocked her pistol, turning the barrel of the gun up to point directly between the thing's too-close eyes.

"So now you're going to tell me _exactly_ what I want to know. _Where is Edward Elric?_"

It cocked its head to the side, nibbling on the tip of its own finger. It was completely silent, perfectly content to stare at her as seconds passed into minutes. Sweat beaded down the side of her face and soaked the back of her uniform, though her expression never wavered from the intimidating mixture of extreme displeasure and impatience- even revulsion. She was beginning to think something wasn't right here. It righted itself abruptly, pulling the finger from its mouth and pointing the slobbery, bloody thing at her.

"You don't make sense. I'm going to eat you now, okay?"

Her eyes widened and she emptied her clip into the monster, leaping aside as she pulled her final handgun from its holster, a revolver that had only been issued last year but was already worn smooth from constant use, the gun that was fast becoming her favorite among the smaller calibers. It had her by the throat then, and it was all she could do to keep firing into the creature. Shot after shot punched through skin and was swallowed by the creature's massive bulk. A minute passed and she finally realized she'd already run out of bullets, her last few pulls of the trigger producing nothing but a muted _click._ She dropped the handgun without a second thought, kicking and prying at the thick hands around her neck with desperate fingers; just as the edges of her vision darkened and the room started to sway, someone shouted and another round of fire blasted into the creature.

It dropped her out of sheer surprise, leaving her to scramble away, snatching the abandoned revolver on the way. She coughed, voice a rough croak, trembling as her body recovered from the stress, eyes watering even as she glanced up at her unexpected ally.

"What are you doing here?"

Falman smiled at her, a razor's edge with a hint of uncertainty.

"My apologies. Things got a little more complicated than we planned for. I heard you might need some help, so I came to give you a hand."

She panted and pressed herself against the wall, the homunculus already regenerating and voicing its irritation.

"Any chance you've got another one of those?"

"No. I only brought the one."

She sighed and fumbled with a box of ammunition tucked behind her belt, loading the revolver with practiced hands, though they were still a trifle shaky.

"I see. This might get a bit tight, then."

The homunculus finished it's cycle and lunged for them again, both soldiers firing methodically into the creature, blasting it back with a constant barrage of bullets. Falman's clip ran out halfway through Riza's round, leaving the man fumbling to reload the unfamiliar weapon. Riza grit her teeth and worked up to her feet, standing as she squeezed yet another bullet from her gun.

"Wait until I'm done to shoot! We'll hold out as long as we can until reinforcements arrive."

Falman called out an affirmative, but it was lost in the creature's howl of rage at the word 'reinforcements.' As if some sort of switch had been flipped, it ran at them like an enraged bear, ignoring the bullets pounding into its fleshy body. In an effort to drive the beast back, Falman added his own shots to the fray, the soldiers shooting in tandem for all of three seconds, that is, until Riza's last bullet left the barrel of her revolver. She swore and flicked the cylinder open, stuffing bullets into chambers as fast as she could. She wasn't even half-done when Falman's clip ran out as well, and the roaring homunculus was finally within arm's length.

She'd nearly given up on the both of them surviving when a growling streak of black and white launched at the monster, tearing at the skin of its chest and face, driving him back once more.

"Falman! Catch!"

Fuery burst into the room, tossing an extra pistol to the older man and laying into the homunculus with gusto. At the first click of the guns' trigger, Hayate leapt away, already more than used to retreating when weapons were drawn. Falman joined Fuery in the fray, aiming the much more familiar 9mm with comparative ease. Hawkeye soon had her revolver loaded and ready, adding yet another stream of fire to the near-deafening attack.

The homunculus was reduced to gaping wounds and wobbling flesh, but still, by some measure of fortitude, stumbled on- the writhing bloody mass advancing inch by crucial inch. Riza clutched her weapon with chagrin, amazement and horror warring for the uppermost place in her mind, trying to think of any possible way to subdue the monster- even if it was only just barely long enough to find out what they so desperately needed to know.

She couldn't think of a single one.

Fuery was the first to run out of ammo, throwing his pistol down and readying to fight with his fists, if need be- prepared to face his death like the brave little soldier he was. Falman was next, and after the briefest expression of disbelief, assumed his normal stoic exterior and stood absolutely still, as if resigned to simply wait for his own execution. Mere seconds later, she too found herself facing the immortal _thing_ with no time to reload and no hope of escape. She tucked the still-hot revolver into the holster hanging from her belt and relaxed into one of the many stances of self-defense she'd picked up over the years.

She doubted they would last two minutes against the homunculus. _She knew_ they were going to die. But she faced her death with a beatific smile on her face, one of the very few the men had ever seen.

Because not once had her Colonel's men even _thought_ to run away.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: Good to be back with you all! Personal crises are now mostly over and this chapter has been in the works for quite a while, so I hope you'll all enjoy it. As of this update, I'll resume my correspondence with any and all readers (new adventurers included). I look forward to speaking with you all.  
**

**There are a few references to my own personal headcanons for the FMA worldscape tucked away in this chapter, so if anything is unclear feel free to contact me in some form or fashion and I'll do my best to explain. **

**If you read the preview I posted with my last AN, the 'new' material begins after the first section divide. Enjoy!  
**

_"Run fast for your mother,_

_Run fast for your father_.

_Run for your children, for your sisters and brothers_.

_Leave all your love and your longing behind._

_You can't carry it with you_

_If you want to survive."_

_Florence + the Machine- Dog Days Are Over_

* * *

He'd never been this panicked in his life, never thought anything could be worse than facing the guilt of destroying so many innocent lives with a flick of his wrist, worse than Edward, worse than _Maes_, but this- _this_- there were no words to describe the weight of sheer terror crushing his chest.

Heart in his throat and foot slamming metal pedal to the floor, with nightmarish scenes playing again and again in his head- like a record caught in a loop of jangling chords- he swerved through Central's streets, neatly avoiding the few automobiles in use and rounding corners at a speed that made pedestrians shriek and cower against dusty brick walls.

He'd never forgive himself if he lost the rest of the team. He'd sworn it.

Never again. He would _never_ lose another man- not even if he had to put _himself_ on the line. _His_ men. _His_ responsibility.

_As it should be. _

He bared his teeth and stomped on the brakes, shoving the gear shift into position and twisting the steering wheel with almost excessive force. The car slid across pavement, halting at the back entrance of the tower with a screech. He kicked the door open and leapt from the driver's seat in a single motion, charging into the lofty building, terror converting to a towering fury at the realization that the once deafening crack of concentrated fire was dwindling to a single stubborn stream. And halfway up the last flight of stairs even that went silent.

His expression locked into a rictus of fury, he bound into the room with exaggerated grace, coattails billowing behind him. The 'guest' was advancing on his team with menacing glee, massive form still smoking and crackling with pure energy as the last bullet wound was sealed.

"No more? Out of bullets? Okay, then. Bon appetit!"

He aimed at the creature without a moment's hesitation, transmuting the air into an explosive mixture of gases and setting off the spark with vicious satisfaction. The thing flew backwards and burst through the stone wall as if it were tissue paper before dropping like a stone to the ground below.

"Co-Colonel!"

Roy lowered his arm deliberately, turning to face Riza with tightly controlled emotion, inner fury held in check for the moment, and opting to ignore the fact that Fuery and Falman were both eying the streets below with incredulity.

"First Lieutenant. Are you hur-?"

Riza cut him off with a glare, hands on hips and yelling louder than he'd heard in many years- since he was Berthold's apprentice, in fact- and scaring Fuery badly enough that Falman had to snatch him away from the edge.

"Why did you show up? You should've stayed behind no matter what happened to us! The enemies will associate you with us now! Are you a complete idiot?"

He huffed and refused to meet her eyes, relief flooding his system and drowning out his remaining temper.

"Okay, okay. Yes, I'm an idiot."

Fuery yelped, pulling out a collapsible telescope and pressed it against his glasses, peering at the streets more closely with another exclamation of dismay.

"The target is making an escape!"

Roy raised an eyebrow and looked over the younger man's shoulder with interest, urging Falman aside to get a better view.

"...Alright. Good, run back to your _nest_..."

He spun, throwing a hand out imperiously towards the other two men.

"Sergeant, withdraw now! Don't leave a speck of dust behind. And _you_, Warrant Officer- I want a full report on your absence this past week! You're lucky we were the ones to find you first! Unlike the MP, _I'll_ at least give you a chance to explain exactly _why_ you went AWOL!"

Both men chorused affirmatives, though Falman looked as if he were ready to cry at the unfairness of it all. He had a private chuckle and resolved to make it up to the man somehow. While he'd been handing out orders, Riza had collected her last handgun and strapped it into place, and after telling Hayate to stay with the Sergeant, the couple swept out of the room. Seconds passed before he could bring himself to break the silence...but he felt it had to be said.

"First Lieutenant..."

"Yes?"

"...I'm glad you're alive."

He heard the sharp intake of breath behind him, though neither slowed in the least. It was a moment more before she answered quietly, even repentantly.

"I'm sorry I worried you."

He grunted and didn't bother to answer.

There was nothing to say that she didn't already know, after all.

* * *

"Lan Fan. Do you sense that?"

"Yes. Ten...twenty...no, even more than that."

"They're not moving...Strange. Let's go. I want to see what they're planning; the military can handle things here."

"Yes, young master."

The two slipped away quietly, creeping across rooftops and fire escapes, angling towards the awaiting enemy with every step. And with every second spent circling towards their targets, the more uneasy the prince became. Their chi...it was unlike anything he'd ever felt before. It was knotted and frayed, the pulse of every soul erratic, frenzied, _writhing-_ as he imagined the waters of the fabled Kaspia must be during a great wind.

Still, they drew closer, spotting the first of their enemies crouching beneath a tin roof high in the rafters, cloaked and silent- intent on the escalating battle only a few streets away. With an ever-increasing awareness of _wrongness,_ he scanned the surrounding area with narrowed eyes, struggling against the troubling conclusion his senses were drawing.

The mass of chi in this area- unmoving and so tightly packed that he couldn't separate them long enough to count their number- was all radiating from the hunched man-child. The life-energy of tens of people all stuffed into one- and the chi itself so twisted and tainted it made him want to gag. He met Lan Fan's gaze and jerked his head at their target. She bowed and vaulted away, confronting the thing head-on. It spun to face her, startled out of its contemplation by the thump of soft-soled boots against thin metal.

"Who are you? How did you instantly spot me like that?"

He watched them closely, noting the unusual hue of the creature's eyes and measuring the slight spike in Lan Fan's chi.

"No...What are you? How many people are inside your body?"

Its eyes widened, a grin spreading across its face as it pushed itself to its feet.

"...I was only here for monitoring but...looks like I have no choice. Aww. But...I'm really not a big fan of _fighting._"

It launched itself at her, murder in its eyes. Without the slightest hesitation Lan Fan spun, caught the creature in the hook of her arm, and threw them both off the landing. She twisted, pulling her legs in between them and straightening in midair, feet planted firmly on her opponent's stomach and chest. They crashed into the street with an impressive thud, Lan Fan allowing herself to relax at the last instant, the brunt of the impact absorbed and broken by the purple-eyed thing. She sprang away, kunai at the ready. Crouching some distance away, she watched it warily, no doubt realizing that it's chi, twisted as it was, had only flickered. Ling too looked on with interest, eyes opening to their fullest mark when the creature pushed itself to its feet.

"You trash! How dare you...I'll kill you!"

It charged at her again, this time coming up at an angle, teeth bared and hands reaching for her throat. She swayed backwards, just barely avoiding the grasping fingers. In the blink of an eye, she had the creature by the forearm, twisting it up and around to trap it neatly in her arms. Before it could twist away, she hopped onto its back, legs wrapping around it as she drew her kunai across its throat. It gurgled and clutched at the gaping wound, falling awkwardly to its knees, Lan Fan already away and circling, dripping kunai at the ready in case it still refused to die.

It fell forward and went still. Ling crept to the very edge of the roof, stretching his senses to their utmost. The tiniest part of the creature's chi winked out of existence, the rest of its life energy still for an instant before it wriggled and pulsed. The energy swarmed beneath its skin and began to manifest in sparking flares, closing the crimson grin painted across its throat. It staggered to its feet, purple eyes thrown into sharp relief.

"Ohh, you're going to regret that."

Lan Fan threw herself at it, this time aiming to stab the thing through its heart.

"Wait."

She pulled away at the last instant, circling at the ready once more. Ling dropped from the rooftop, watching with a calculating gleam in his eye, lingering on the tattoo imprinted on its thigh.

"You have an unusual body composition."

The thing swore and sank into a crouch, muttering expletives to itself.

"Another one...They just keep coming and coming."

Ling smiled, more a baring of his teeth than a show of good will.

"Tell me, homunculus...Immortality...what's it like?"

The homunculus sneered.

"You'll never find out...because I'm going to be the one that kills you."

And with a razor edged grin the fight was on.

They managed to kill the thing two, three, four more times between them. But after killing it for the second time, it began to change forms. Its disguises were no great obstacle as its chi was always the same snarl of compressed taint, but he could understand the challenge it would pose to less skilled warriors.

He was almost beginning to admire the creature.

They forced it back against the clock tower, driving it towards the second tangled chi that had appeared soon after their fight began. Ling took its right and Lan Fan its left, swaying and feinting with kunai and sword.

The homunculus swore loudly, looking up and over his shoulder, gradually realizing that its companion was no better off than itself.

"Gluttony! What're you doing? Help me out...here...What?"

Ling snickered, watching with grim amusement as the much larger homunculus crushed the small screeching one beneath his weight.

"You idiot! How the heck did you get yourself barbecued like that?"

The small one wriggled free and transformed into a nondescript canine, making a foolish attempt to escape.

"Crap...We should retreat and reorganize ourselves..."

Lan Fan cut it off and forced it back into position while Ling, already bored with the little homunculus's tricks, kept a careful eye on this...Gluttony. A shift of energy and a crackle of energy, just as vivid and chi-twisting as the other homunculus's regenerations, and Gluttony sprang to his feet.

"I'm baack!"

Gluttony grinned and waddled forward, saliva dripping down his chin. He cocked his head to the side, button eyes bright with childish glee while the green one snarled.

"Envy, can I have them?"

Envy's snarl widened into a nasty leer.

"Yeah...Go, eat! Take a bite out of them! We don't need trash like them around."

The fat one charged and they were thrown into battle once more, though this time they had their own opponents. They were challenging enough, Ling supposed. He wondered if they would ever lie down and die. He'd already split the fat one in half. Then he'd tried decapitation, stabbing it through the heart, carving away at the creature limb by limb...and though it expressed some small discomfort, this Gluttony didn't seem at all fazed. And much to Ling's chagrin, he didn't seem to have any extra abilities at all, much less any as interesting as Envy's.

Ling flicked the blood off of his blade with a sigh, watching as the two homunculi pieced themselves together again.

"Ahh, I've had enough of him. Hey, won't you please surrender already? I'm getting bored. Just tell us what we want to know and we probably won't harm you."

Envy stood with menacing slowness, eyes hard with crystallized hate, voice quiet and controlled.

"Gluttony, this crowd is getting bigger."

"Can I eat them?"

"Actually...go ahead. Swallow them. The onlookers, these two, and everyone else...who saw a glimpse of Envy."

Ling wasn't sure what made his chi shiver and his hair stand on end, but he found himself wondering if perhaps he had underestimated the fat one after all. Gluttony's jaw was stretching farther and farther, teeth gleaming in the setting sun, and Envy seemed to swell.

"What do you think you're doing?"

The homunculi froze in place, as if they were children caught with their hands in the sweet jar. The Xingese couple grimaced, Ling stretching his senses to their utmost, eyes straining to see through the darkness. It was impossible...but the homunculus taint was in every dark corner of the city. The writhing, rotting evil obliterated every other chi in the area. It was suffocating. These homunculus had unbalanced the world- yin was overcoming yang.

"Pride, is that you? Why are you here?"

Ling sank into himself, giving up his sight to concentrate more on the origin of this new creature. Its voice was every-place and no-place, a thousand different tongues speaking at once, and old...older than anything he'd ever felt before.

"You failed to complete your mission and made a spectacle of yourself in public. Not only that, you let someone trespass in our lair. What a shame."

Ling's eyes opened at that, allowing himself a small smirk at Envy's obvious discomfort though fear-sweat dripped down his spine.

"O-our lair was intruded!"

"Envy, you are a bit too careless. It's time you retreated for today."

Ling wanted to howl his outrage. To have fought against Envy and Gluttony for so long, only to have this ancient one send them away...it was unacceptable! He would not be denied this opportunity.

But he could no more fight against this darkness than he could fight against the sun.

Envy offered his own objections, indignant at being sent away like a child. But the demon had no mind to listen.

"Silence, you scamp. Do you dare to make a display of your disgraceful self? More than you already have?"

"...Gluttony. Let's go."

The homunculi stalked away, quiet under the eye of the ancient. Envy stopped just short of the shadows, turning to face the Xingese with an impressive display of apathy.

"Your luck was the only thing that kept you from dying."

Ling smirked and rested his blade against his shoulder, clearly showing off the rust colored edge.

"Oh yeah? You wanna bet?"

Envy harrumphed and turned to step into the darkness, pausing to hear the prince's last words.

"You won't escape us for long. By my word as a prince of Xing, we will meet again and I will have my answer."

"So be it."

And the shadows swallowed him whole and faded into nothing.

Ling gasped for air, allowing his composure to break as fear-sweat slid across his skin.

"What the heck_ was_ that?"

Lan Fan was also struggling, her voice trembling the slightest bit, eyes wide behind the mask.

"Lord, I'm very sorry. I failed to find the clue to immortality."

Ling laughed breathily, bracing his hands on his knees.

"Well, they definitely know something. Looked like there were more of them, too. That really was a close call."

He wiped the sweat from his face and straightened.

"Geez...this country is full of interesting guys. Come, Lan Fan. Let's go find our friends. Maybe they found out more than we could."


End file.
